


the path to paradise begins in hell

by WendigoBaby



Series: pat does tumblr prompts [4]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 3x10 Coda, Angst and Feels, Fluff and Angst, Honesty, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magicless Magnus, Mentions of Blood, Near Death Experiences, Supportive Alec Lightwood, They're soulmates, True Love, a bit of everything honestly, lots of tears and hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 13:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WendigoBaby/pseuds/WendigoBaby
Summary: Magnus cries again - the tears make new marks, dark with the eyeliner running in streaks and he must look like a mess, but he doesn’t care. He’s still scared, terrified to his very core of what the future will bring, but for now, he laughs through his tears.He laughs and laughs and laughs, eyes scrunched closed and voice cracking, but Alec chuckles along and for a moment, it truly is okay. Magnus has survived hundreds of years and he’s still here, alive and himself. This is just another bump in the road - after all, the path to paradise begins in hell. And if this is his hell, so be it, he’ll fight tooth and nail.He’s magicless, but there is still power in him.





	the path to paradise begins in hell

**Author's Note:**

> writer's block is a b*tch, isn't it

Closing his eyes, Magnus tries to breathe, to focus on the simple in-and-out movement of air in his lungs. He’s surrounded by the noise of the city, by the night-cold air that smells like exhaust fumes and something metallic.

 

Something like blood.

 

Magnus is absolutely sure some of it is still stuck beneath his fingernails despite the countless times he’s washed his hands until they turned red from rubbing. It’s probably on his shirt too, soaked into the dark material. Magnus can still smell it on himself as if he’s bathed in it; he can still almost taste the tang of it on his tongue as well as he did when he whispered prayers in that alley with the faith of a man who has seen God himself.

 

He leans further onto the balcony railing, putting more of his body weight on it until the concrete digs into his elbows the same way it did into his knees as he fished his phone out of his pocket with one hand, the other one busy holding up Alec’s head.

 

Catarina came as fast as she could, rushing through a portal with clothes billowing around her while Magnus just sat there, a helpless fool, begging Alexander to keep his pretty eyes open just for a little longer.

 

The iratze may have bought them a couple minutes of precious time, but it was barely enough to tide Alec over until Cat poured her magic into his wound. It was deep, so deep - it reached his heart, the point of the arrow brushing against the right chamber of it with every beat.

 

It was runed, of course it was, meant to inflict the most damage possible, so at one point Magnus had to tug at it, had to hear Alec scream out in pain as the arrowhead came free. There was so much blood Magnus’ hands were slippery with it and he could do nothing but look as the flesh knitted together under the lead of blue magic.

 

Magic was something he didn’t possess anymore, unfortunately.

 

Everything after that was a blur Magnus remembered bits and pieces of - after Alec was stable and the worst of his injuries were healed, Cat conjured another portal to drop them off at the loft, leaving soon after with Magnus’ thanks and a promise to explain everything in detail tomorrow.

 

The loft still smelled of char and burning, so Magnus had thrown open the balcony doors, welcoming the cold seeping through his clothes, allowing him to feel something besides the bottomless pit of dread sitting heavy in his stomach. 

 

Kneeling by the bed, Magnus watched Alec sleep, pale yet seemingly peaceful and not feeling any more pain. There was a stark white bandage over the wound - while the worst of the damage was reversed, it’d still have to heal on its own over the next week or so, similarly to the wrist, wrapped in a soft cast and resting over Alec’s stomach.

 

Fingers tight around Alec’s healthy hand, Magnus held guard, observed the steady rise and fall of Alec’s chest. It was strong, measured, nothing like the stuttering and shallow spasms of someone close to dying.

 

Without the kick of adrenaline running through his veins, Magnus felt himself start to shake. On weak knees, he stood and wandered outside, where he is now, palm pressed flat against his mouth and eyes unseeing, the city lights out of focus and dancing in his vision like fireflies.

 

He’s cold, almost freezing despite not even shrugging off the coat he’s been wearing for the entirety of the day. But it’s a welcome distraction, numbing the relentless worry clawing at Magnus’ insides where he’s already scraped raw, like losing his magic has also left him devoid of anything beyond the discomfort of anxiety.

 

He tried not to think about it at first, fooled himself it would be okay in the end, because that’s how it always is, right? Plans A and B and C may fail, but in the end, he always succeeds, finds a way against the world. His father has always said Magnus could be hopelessly naive. Maybe he was right, after all. This isn’t something Magnus can fix with the click of his fingers, ironically.

 

Saving lives aside, how is he supposed to live now? Magnus has relied on his magic for everything from warding his home to always having food in his fridge and now it’s like someone has pulled the rug from under his feet, leaving him off-kilter and ready to tip over with the slightest push. He’ll have to ask Catarina for _more_ help, overstep her kindness and–

 

“Magnus?” Comes Alec’s voice, rough with disuse, and much closer than expected.

 

It takes everything in Magnus not to jump. He turns his head, finds Alec leaning against the doorframe - his bruised skin looks almost black in the half-light illuminating him from the back. It creates a halo of messy hair around his head as the shadowhunter steps a bit closer, almost hesitant despite the desperate way his eyes are running over Magnus’ entire body.

 

“Do you want me to give you some time alone?” he asks, ever so thoughtful.

 

_You’ve almost died_ , Magnus thinks, looking at Alec smile with tenderness reserved only for him.

 

“No, no.” Magnus shakes his head vehemently. "Don’t give me space. That’s the last thing I want with you right now.”

 

“Okay.” Holding his injured hand up against his chest, Alec ambles closer, his knees barely able to carry his weight, not to mention the world he puts on his shoulders. Together, they stand, looking out at New York in silence.

 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” Magnus asks, turning to look at Alec’s profile. His long eyelashes sweep against his cheeks and another tired smile pulls at the corners of Alec’s mouth.

 

“You weren’t there, so I had to find you.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Magnus wants to take Alec by his shoulders and shake him, stop him from being so painfully gentle, so loving, so _fragile_. Magnus was a fool for declining Alec’s offer to move in earlier. He’d put his fears over what his heart wanted, decided it would be safer to keep Alec at a distance so the darkest of Magnus’ secrets could stay hidden and so Alexander would never think any less of him.

 

Because as if there was anything Alec wouldn’t take in stride, as if he wouldn’t just hum and nod and accept it all without judgement. There might be issues embedded deep in Magnus’ mind, insecurities he has to deal with, but they are nothing compared to the fear of seeing your loved one bleeding out before you.

 

He wants to wake up with Alec’s arms wrapped around him, to hear him snoring softly again while they’re warm under the same sheets. He wants to be selfish and greedy for once, he wants more dates and more kisses and more time to spend together. He wants to be happy for a little while longer.

 

“Stay with me,” Magnus asks, putting his hand atop Alec’s where it’s resting against the railing. He means now, he means later, he means forever, no matter how much time they’re given. “Move in, if you still want to.”

 

Alec’s eyebrows lift in a gesture of surprise and Magnus holds his gaze, hoping Alec understands. _Please stay, I can’t come close to losing you again, God knows I need you, now more than ever_ , he wants to say.

 

“I still want to,” Alec whispers back; it’s settled. They’ll have to haul boxes and push around furniture and rearrange the apartment, but it’ll be okay.

 

Alec opens his mouth around a question, one he decides against voicing in the end, but somehow Magnus knows what it was meant to be. _Why? Why now?_

 

“You’ve almost died,” he hates the way his voice wavers over the last word.

 

“But I didn’t.”

 

Something breaks inside Magnus and he turns fully to face Alec before his fingers dig into a pair of biceps. “Don’t- don’t say it like that, like it’s nothing,” he snaps, fruitless anger rising from the feeling of helplessness.

 

“Do you know how many times I’ve almost lost you? _Three_.” Magnus’ hands slide further up Alec’s arms until they rest around his neck, careful of the bruises there. Vividly, he remembers the arrow, jutting upright from Alec’s chest. “The first time, I had to watch you play a martyr for your parabatai, and I was unable to save you. You were slipping between my fingers and I could do almost nothing.”

 

Alec swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but he doesn’t speak; Magnus presses his thumb against the divot at the base of Alec’s throat.

 

“The second time, I saw you step off the roof of my home and to your death. What if I was a second late, what if I didn’t manage to catch you with my magic? What if it was gone like it is now and I could just watch you fall?”

 

It’s something Magnus had wondered in the dark of the night, his mind conjuring up the worst scenarios to present them as nightmares later. All it would take was a split second of hesitation, a distraction, Magnus missing his target, because his hands shook. What if he was as helpless then as he is now?

 

Magnus takes a deep breath, stepping closer; Alec’s hands settle on his hips, beneath the coat still dirtied with the red sands of Edom. His throat burns when he tries to swallow and his vision blurs, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. Before he can speak again, he has to choke down the cold grip of looming death each time he sees the bandage across Alec’s chest. One would think he’d get used to the gruesomeness of the world, with all that he has lost; nevertheless, it always burns anew, like a nerve exposed over and over again on the precipice of a tragedy bigger than before.

 

“And today, I could do nothing. I wasn’t able to save you, just hold you close while I watched the life fade from your eyes. And you- you still tried to make me smile, I-” Magnus presses his palms against his wet face, hastily wiping at the shimmering streaks the tears left behind. He feels even weaker now, vulnerable and open, as his shoulders shake with muted sobs.

 

Alec pulls him close and snug against his chest, moving his arms so that one is around Magnus’ shoulders and the other against the back of his neck. Aware of every injury Alec has suffered, Magnus wraps his arms around his waist, tucks his head into the crook of Alec’s neck, letting his tears soak into the cotton fabric.

 

For a moment, he’s placated by the familiar scent of Alec’s woodsy cologne and the beating of his heart, until panic digs its claws into Magnus’ heart and takes his breath away, leaving him gasping in Alec’s embrace.

 

They stay like that, tangled into one being and swaying side to side as Alec runs his fingers through Magnus’ hair. He’s supposed to be the strong one, the wise one, the one with an answer for everything. But he’s lost at sea, drowning without anything to hold onto.

 

Magnus’ tears run dry after a while, but he just digs his fingers into Alec’s t-shirt and doesn’t let go. “I’m scared, Alexander.”

 

He feels like a child again, walking the streets of a city he doesn’t know, so utterly lost without any direction; this time he’s not alone.

 

“It’s okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you,” Alec whispers into his ear soothingly, pressing soft kisses against Magnus’ temple and the side of his head.

 

He’s not okay, no matter how much he’d love to believe that.

 

“I have nothing. My magic’s gone, I’m useless and a _nobody_ ,” Magnus mumbles, pushing away from Alec to try and compose his sniffling self; he doesn’t want to be a burden.

 

When Alec laughs, it almost stings until Magnus recognizes the tone of it, labels it as disbelief and something angrier than that sitting underneath. Alec grabs at Magnus’ arm, causing a wave of deja vu to wash over both of them, and pulls so they’re face to face again.

 

“Are you crazy? You might be without your magic, but you’re anything but useless,” Alec spits out the last word like it’s offensive to him, eyebrows furrowing into the familiar expression of annoyance. “You’re _Magnus Bane_. The wisest and kindest man I’ve ever had the honour to know, my best friend and my boyfriend, a part of my family. I _love_ you. Cat _loves_ you, so does Madzie and Izzy and everyone who’s ever met you. You have all of us and you’re still _you_. Magic may be a source of your power, but what’s important is still here - your heart.”

 

Magnus cries again - the tears make new marks, dark with the eyeliner running in streaks and he must look like a mess, but he doesn’t care. He’s still scared, terrified to his very core of what the future will bring, but for now, he laughs through his tears.

 

He laughs and laughs and laughs, eyes scrunched closed and voice cracking, but Alec chuckles along and for a moment, it truly is okay. Magnus has survived hundreds of years and he’s still here, alive and himself. This is just another bump in the road - after all, the path to paradise begins in hell. And if this is his hell, so be it, he’ll fight tooth and nail.

 

He’s magicless, but there is still power in him.

 

When Magnus opens his eyes again, he’s met with Alec’s enamored smile as he reaches forward and wipes Magnus’ cheeks for him, resting his fingers alongside the sharp edge of his jawline.

 

“What you’ve done…” Alec starts, then falters, but Magnus knows.

 

“Was what should’ve been done. I don’t regret the deal I’ve made and neither should you feel guilty over it. There was no way I could’ve let you kill a part of yourself. I wouldn’t have been able to live with that,” Magnus confesses, grasping Alec’s wrist to hold his palm where it sits and press closer into the familiar touch.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Don’t thank me. I did it for all of us. For you, for Jace, for the world.” Magnus could see some of himself in possessed Jace - to be forced, pushed into committing crimes out of what is supposed to be love hurts in a way that’s irreparable. He knows what it means to be manipulated, to live with your crimes, not being able to prevent them. The years under Asmodeus’ care still stand out starkly in Magnus’ memory.

 

“I’ll do anything to get your magic back, I swear,” Alec promises earnestly, determination bright in his tired eyes.

 

“I know.”

 

“And I will be here with you, if you want me. We’ll fix it all, one step at a time.”

 

Magnus feels his heart swell with emotions as he lessens the distance between them. Their lips meet just as the sun breaks across the horizon, bathing them in golden light; their kiss speaks of relief and of love so devoted it could burn the holiest of saints to ashes.

 

Right now, it’s not okay - they’re afraid and unsure, but there is always a way to climb out from the deepest of ditches and reach towards the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first proper fic in a while so please let me know what you've thought! x
> 
> my tumblr is [catarinalec](https://catarinalec.tumblr.com/)


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